GRAEME'S BLOG DAY EIGHT

Walking round Rosario this morning revealed some better-looking buildings than my first impression. Renovation work on some of the older structures was noticeable and there is a good deal of public art on display, always a sign of pride in a community. Drivers drive like lunatics it goes without saying and some junctions are controlled by traffic police. We saw an officer hold up a line of cars while this old dog limped slowly across. No-one but us batted an eyelid. There do seem to be a lot of dogs in Argentina. There are a heck of a lot of veterinary practices and petfood and pet health stores as well. It is not just the British who care more for their animals than for some of their children. There are also a large number of perfume shops in Rosario trading under the glorious name of Fanny.

Down through the regular grid of city centre streets to the banks of the river Parana. The whole length of the river in this part of town, beyond a large naval base, is bordered by a hundred metres of parkland and esplanade. As you walk across on a cold but bright winter's day you can imagine a summer scene of picnickers and frisbee games. The river level is some ten or fifteen metres below the ground level today and this somehow enhances the sense of power you feel. All that expansion margin for a river a kilometre wide, what must it look like in spate?

We walked over to the Spanish Cultural Centre, built in red brick to echo lost city type ziggurats. Up to the top of these steps, perfect for fitness training, and you realise that the river is even wider than it looks, what you thought was the opposite bank is actually a string of islands. This river is on a truly mighty scale.

Back to the Hotel Imperio for the bus to the games. Out of the city centre and into the suburbs, then beyond them to countryside. There are poor barrios around Rosario for sure, but nothing like the squalor around Buenos Aires. Indeed you could begin to see how the shanty barrios grow into neighbourhoods of permanent housing over time and eventually seem to become quite ordinary districts.

Universitario de Rosario is a prominent club in the region. Their first XV are regional champions and would always expect to be there or thereabouts, we were told. They obviously have a thriving girls' hockey section, of which more later.

As we arrived at the club, four senior fellows were finishing up a game of pelota, something I had never seen in the flesh before. It looks like a game of relatively light exertion and I would have loved to have a go.

The pitch was in very good condition and a couple of small stands were nicely placed for spectating. There was a small clubhouse with the inevitable open air grill and a chap firing it up to feed the hockey girls and, presumably, later the rugby boys. Chilly changing rooms on the first floor of the pelota court building for the boys. There was a small cafe on the site tucked away from the club structures and apparently not yet open.

As we waited for the first two teams to change and warm up, we spectators chatted with some of the hockey players. They were most interested in los chicos inglesos and asked us lots of questions, particularly about one or two that had caught their eye. I taught some of them the difference in English between a laugh and a giggle and they practised dutifully. I learned the difference between un ganador and un perdidor (er, well fit and a minger might be approximate translations). Off they went for their post match meal and then back they came to watch the rugby and get themselves introduced to los chicos. Facebook co-ordinates were exchanged and arrangements made for a little socialising later.

After the games our hosts were cooking a huge cauldron of chicken and rice on the open grill and out came the club shop for boys to purchase Club Universitario de Rosario kit. Lots of Maidenhead lads coughed up for it and looked good in it too. Unfortunately some of the host players had shown a rather less healthy interest in Maidenhead clothing, some having been found going through kit bags in the changing rooms. Two numbered tour jackets and a MRFC hoody were missing. Understandably upset, tour managers told the president of the club and he said he would speak to the home team captains. Subsequently the tour jackets were “found” but the hoody was not.

This, and the dismay over the ending of the second game, cast something of a chill over the post-match festivities. The cafe was found to be open and a little wine and beer purchased to move things along. After an hour or so, the chicken and rice was served up and very good too. The home club laid on some wine themselves at this point and some good conversation ensued. The boys did not mingle much, no billets being on the cards, and indeed many of the Uni players had left by the time the speeches and presentations were given. The speaker for Uni said that they had hosted school tourists before but never an amateur club like themselves. Without wishing to be unkind, let us say their inexperience showed.

Back to the Imperio and the boys were given a night out while the adults repaired to the local cafe for refreshment and another few rounds of “What's your favourite...” Meanwhile, out in the darkness, hockey chicas were massing and circling. We have certainly made some friends in Argentina.